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Feb 2019
I remember walking on crunching leaves and the sun shining violently through the trees. The light creating a twinkling in your eyes flickering vibrantly in the confines of my fading memory.
Everything was golden, gloriously golden in that moment.
Now, the decay is setting in on my once ambient vision.
I can still hear us singing, we could be heroes, if just for a day.
Viola
Written by
Viola
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